Jim Jones: Jamaican joint

Killa, Jones, Jones, Let's Go[Cam'Ron]Clowns don't come around, pound pounds i pump in townDo like House of Pain, Kriss Kross, jump aroundJumpin' down, stuntin style, over those I pollyThen merk-o from squalie, ducati and Roberto Cavali mamiWe feelin' them scoobies, you stealin' them gucci's boobyGet it right, its Emilio Pucci, hoochie (hoochie)Write for sci-fi, i'll be pipin' five pies, the cat went like the nine livesTen halves, five pies, ten cars, five drives, ten bars, fi-fiThat's fifty-five thou, sha-na-na, bye byeMy fittings touched tailored, joined by Chuck TaylorsOn the yacht with glocks, we sum thug sailorsYou drinkin' old gold, rockin that old goldWe in rose gold, at the Rose BowlSend you a bowl of roses, we dun sold soulsSlow toes, im so cold, my dough foldsKilla![Chorus: Jim Jones]So get your parachute, and row your boat niggaSignal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly highWe fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachuteSignal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly highBo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo![Jim]So on this road to success, I grew up in the boat o'y'allGettin closed by the jetsI learned my code from the set, I took my oath to the deathI risked the quarter to bing, I bet this forty a ringCams from the 40th wing, the westside of harlemAnd rat roach infested, them black po's in vests'sThey stack most impressive, ride through Tana's townThats where them grams be found, breeze through the broadway sideAnd where they always reside, and so much raw yay,You know all them boys be outsideWith them sirens and guns, all the noise be outside,And yes we scour the slumsYou know our toys be outside, co-co boy to ride,Five-hundred thou on the blockthe ones when we ride on the block, pumpin them bow's for the rocksLook i came up from that, cookin' that came from crackNew boys shinin' man, New York's ryder man, look how I got'em Damn![Chorus: Jim Jones]So get your parachute, and row your boat niggaSignal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly highWe fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachuteSignal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly highBo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo![Juelz Santana]I'm a, boy shotta, born poppa, y'all liars, y'all nottaI squeeze more fire, call coppers, squalie!Hear that, pumper squeeze, yeah that, pumper beShoved in your mouth for talkin' all the fuck-a-reeWe move with the tune boy, we shoot'em and move boyYes you could say we are the Rudest of rude boysMove that, do that, juke that girl, who dat who dat who dat girlI wanna meet her, i wanna see her, i wanna skeet skeetI wanna juice that girlGrippin good, pimpin good, livin' good, shit is good, test me, lets seeI wish a nigga would (aye)Y'all kids is a waste, when i spark clips is a wasteWhen alcoholics spit in your face, quick get a tatseNigga i ride high, drive high, fly high, sky high, high high i'm highSo high, so fly, float by, oh why, oh my, and i dont know whyWhoaa...[Chorus: Jim Jones]So get your parachute, and row your boat niggaSignal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly highWe fly high, like bo! Bo! bo!Now your row your boat nigga, and get your parachuteSignal your plane, yes we get on them planes and fly highBo! Bo! and fly high like Bo! Bo!